


Festival of the Ancestors

by VR_Trakowski



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, The Force Ships It, a bit of angst, but a happy ending, so does the muse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 07:26:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23967610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VR_Trakowski/pseuds/VR_Trakowski
Summary: After she gets back from Tatooine, Rey is ordered to go havefun.  When she gives it a try, the universe has a surprise for her...
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 18
Kudos: 78





	Festival of the Ancestors

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure this has been done a dozen times, but I haven't seen it yet. Also I really like Nambi. 
> 
> For J, who liked it.

Being alone made Rey restless.

After Exegol, after Tatooine, after... _everything,_ she’d returned to the Resistance base only to find it almost abandoned. Finn and Rose and Poe, Chewie and the droids had waited for her, but they were almost the only ones left. And while there were lively debates during supper over what they would do next, Rey - didn’t have an opinion.

Oh, sure, she meant to train other Jedi...eventually. But the task seemed huge from where she was standing - she’d need someplace to house students, some way to support them, ways to _find_ them, the list went on and on.

And she was _tired_. Coming back from the dead was exhausting, it seemed.

She’d told Chewbacca about Ben on Exegol, but only Chewie, because he was the only one who didn’t make a face when she said Ben’s name. But it didn’t ease the hurt.

It was Poe who noticed, for all Rey tried to hide her mood. “I can see you’re unhappy,” he said quietly, as the others discussed ship repairs and hyperlane coordinates. “Rey, you’re _allowed_ to be. After what we went through - what _you_ went through - give yourself a _break_.”

He put an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him. “I don’t know what to do with myself,” she admitted, keeping her voice low.

“It’s a thing. They taught us about it in training,” Poe said. “Even victories can leave you flattened.”

Rey nodded, not trying to explain that it wasn’t just the aftermath of battle that made her sad.

It still haunted her, as deep a wound as her parents’ leaving. Ben, free of the darkness at last, _with_ her, _smiling_...and the next moment -

\- gone. His last breath had lingered longer than his body.

She was so empty inside, and Rey knew that no one else could ever fill that space.

“Listen.” Poe shifted, gripping Rey’s shoulders and catching her gaze. “Take some time. Do something, I don’t know, relaxing. _Fun._ When’s the last time you had fun?”

“Um.” Rey thought for a moment, distracted. _The **Falcon’s** guns live under her hands, sky and land slipping past, TIEs spinning away in bursts of flame - _ “The Battle of Crait?”

Poe gave her an unamused look. “Yeah, _definitely_ time to take it easy.” He gave her a gentle squeeze and let her go. “Seriously, Rey. Go do something just because you want to. The galaxy can wait.”

“Sure,” Rey muttered. “I’ll have fun, then.”

* * *

The trouble was, _fun_ wasn’t something Rey _did._

It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy herself from time to time, and not just when shooting down enemy fighters. She’d had exhilarating moments during training, beaten Finn at hand-to-hand and lost to Rose at droid trivia, flown a ship up from night into shimmering dawn. But she’d never had time to seek it out - certainly not as an adult. There had been the little games and imaginings she’d played as a child, but that had been long ago, and anyway what toys she’d retained had been left behind on Jakku. The closest she’d come was the flight simulator, and even that had ceased to be a challenge.

Rey tried to remember what she’d done recently that had been...enjoyable. The only thing that came to mind was those few minutes when the festival on Pasaana had unfolded before her, more people and colour and merriment than she’d ever seen before. Music and stories and people being _happy_ -

She set aside the memory of the dyad bond opening and spoiling it all, concentrating instead on the smells, the sounds.

_Yes. That was fun._

It didn’t take her long to track down C-3PO. Rey suspected that he and Artoo were at a bit of a loss; the deaths of Luke and Leia...and Ben...left them unowned. And while there were plenty of droids in the galaxy who did fine on their own, she thought that maybe they were a little sad too.

“Of course, Mistress Rey!” Threepio said when she asked. “I’m delighted to answer whatever questions you may have about the galaxy’s choices in entertainment.”

Rey smiled at him; Poe found the protocol droid annoying, but Rey liked him, fussy as he was. And she remembered the sacrifice he’d made, even if they had rather pressured him into it. “Basically, I’m looking for something like the Festival of the Ancestors on Pasaana. I liked that one, it would be nice to see something like it.”

“Oh! There are any number of similar events,” Threepio said, turning up one stiff hand. “Some focus on honoring antecedents, some on food and display. But you are aware that the festival lasts a planetary month, are you not?”

Rey blinked. “You mean it’s still going on?”

* * *

She and Chewbacca took Threepio with them, Artoo whistling dire warnings as they climbed the ramp into the _Falcon_. “I’m certain we’ll be fine!” Threepio called back. “This is a holiday, not a mission!”

Rey had to grin at Artoo’s loudly expressed doubt. She joined Chewie in the cockpit, and soon the green moon was rolling away beneath them as the _Falcon_ headed for open space.

_< Let’s avoid the sand snakes this time,>_ Chewbacca said, and Rey snickered. 

“I don’t think they come to the festival.Are you going to join me, or do you want to stay in the _Falcon_?” 

_< I’m coming.I want to try the legendary sweets while no one’s shooting at us.>_

“That’s a good plan.” It did feel strange, to be traveling without any urgent goal or deadline, and Rey babied the _Falcon_ a bit; they would reach Pasaana in time for the last day of the celebration. _No need to hurry._

They found the same windswept landing spot, and scrambled down to the desert floor; Rey almost tripped several times, gaze drawn inexorably back to the hundreds of kites fluttering against the sky. The festival was as joyous as she remembered, the music as thunderous, the smells as delicious; Rey touched the small pouch at her belt, where she’d stashed a precious handful of credits. It had taken a lot of internal argument to allow herself the idea of spending money on something frivolous, but when she’d told Poe where she was going, he’d promptly issued her funds from the Resistance treasury, calling it _back pay_ and telling her she wasn’t allowed back until she’d spent them.

Chewie immediately split off, heading for a bank of food vendors. “Go with him,” Rey told Threepio, “I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure, Mistress Rey,” Threepio said, and Rey patted his shoulder.

“Go on. Save the vendors from his temper.”

She watched him vanish into the crowd, the rigid gold figure following the hairy head that bobbed above all the other beings, and turned away with a smile. Communion with the Jedi of the past had brought her certain advantages, and one of them was a deepened sense of other sentient creatures. Rey couldn’t _speak_ the tongue she heard all around her, but she was able to understand quite a bit of it now.

For a while, she just wandered, taking in the sights and sounds, feeling her own grief ease a little as the joyful rhythm of the festival surrounded her. The puppet theatre was closed, but there were clusters of small children playing some kind of game that involved hoops and round stones, and Rey stood for a while to listen to them chatter and laugh.

She watched kite combats and rituals involving small objects tossed into fires, got swept up into a complicated line dance arm in arm with robed elders, and sampled a half-dozen foods before splurging on an entire flask of water. Rey saw Chewbacca and C-3PO once, the former seated at a table and playing a board game with an Aki-Aki almost as large as he, while Threepio watched and offered comment that no one paid attention to.

It took Rey a few hours to notice that not all of the crowd was corporeal.

She’d gotten used to seeing Force ghosts lately, or at least as used as anyone got. But these spirits weren’t limned in blue; they looked solid and ordinary, except for the way they passed right through people and objects, casting no shadows. For a moment Rey thought that she was the only one who could perceive them, until she saw a living Aki-Aki bow to a spirit one, respectful but unconcerned.

_Oh._

_I guess the “ancestor” part isn’t just a name, then._

As the high blue day mellowed into golden evening and the coloured smoke grew thicker, Rey wandered on, nodding to living and spirit alike, humming along to music and walking in time with the drums. It was such a new experience, to be in a crowd but not to be on guard; she had no mission and no deadline, and while Rey knew that Chewie would come look for her if she didn’t turn up at the _Falcon_ eventually, she had hours yet.

She couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to see her _own_ ancestors in the crowd, a wistful imagining - though she barely remembered her parents’ faces. _Still..._

A tug at her leggings made her look down. _“There you are,”_ someone said triumphantly, and Rey grinned.

“Nambi Ghima,” she said in greeting, and crouched down to the child’s level. “It’s good to see you again.”

_“Welcome,”_ Nambi said with ceremonial gravity. _“I’m glad you have returned to celebrate with us.”_

“Thank you.” The hours of observation had given Rey a better idea of proper local etiquette, and she held out both hands. “I’m very glad to be here.”

Nambi clasped Rey’s fingers in her own; her skin was hot and sueded, far softer than Rey’s. _“Come,”_ she said, beaming. _“You are waited for.”_

Rey blinked, not quite sure what Nambi meant, but the child was delighted, and it was easy to stand and let her tug Rey along through the swaying throng.

_“Where is your necklace?”_ Nambi was saying, and Rey winced.

“It got broken,” she said, keeping it simple. The memory was a jumble of anger and defiance and, filtered through what had come later, regret; some part of her wondered exactly what Kylo Ren had done with it.

_“Eh!”_ Nambi stopped, drawing another necklace from a pocket in her robes, and gestured imperiously until Rey bent down again and she could slip it over Rey’s head. _“There. Now you are proper.”_

Again, the exact meaning of what she was saying wasn’t clear, but Rey didn’t think it mattered. “Thank you,” she said, touching it gently. “It’s lovely.”

Nambi nodded proudly, and drew her onward. “Nambi,” Rey said tentatively. “The ancestors...”

_“They come to celebrate with us,”_ Nambi said. _“We honor them with the festival, and then they return to the next-life.”_

_Not really all that different than Force ghosts, then._ Rey reflected wryly that the galaxy was a whole lot _weirder_ than she had ever imagined on Jakku, but to be fair it was also fascinating.

No one looked twice at them, a daughter of the Aki-Aki towing an alien through the crowd. _Is this something all the children do?_

They were nearing a line of booths selling what looked to be decorations. “Nambi,” Rey said, thinking back, “do you remember when you asked me about my family name?”

Nambi glanced up at her. _“Do you have one now?”_

“I do.” Shy pride stirred in Rey, mixed with sorrow. “It’s Skywalker.”

“That’s a good name.”

It wasn’t Nambi who spoke. Rey stopped in shock, looking up at the shadowed form standing between two of the booths.

_“It is good,_ ” Nambi agreed, and released Rey with the air of one who had accomplished a great task. _“There. You are found.”_

She patted Rey’s hand, and disappeared in a swirl of robes. Rey hardly noticed her leaving; she couldn’t pull her gaze from the tall figure.

_“Ben.”_

He stepped forward into the light, hesitant, eyes wide and a hint of a smile tilting the corners of his mouth. He was dressed not in scorched and holed black, but a white shirt and dark grey trousers, and the fearsome injuries he’d sustained at Exegol were gone as if they had never been. “Rey Skywalker. That’s...fitting.”

_Of course. Of course he could come here, now._

Joy and grief tangled in Rey, spilling over into a tear-laced smile that felt as if it might split her face. Ben’s own smile grew as their eyes met, just as bittersweet, though his hands stayed clasped behind his back.

“It seemed right,” she managed, voice hoarse. “And...and your family approved.”

Ben nodded once. “So they should.” His gaze was fixed on her face, and Rey made a tiny sound as the bond between them opened again. Delight and sorrow poured through it, regret and that firm unity that they had known for such a short time; she had to blink to clear her vision, and she could see wet trails on Ben’s cheeks too. “How...how did Nambi know?”

Ben shook his head. “She brought you; that’s all I know.”

“The Festival of the Ancestors,” Rey murmured. _It must thin the walls of reality - but I never expected -_ “It ends at dawn.”

How could they bear this, to be together only until the festival’s end? How could they _not_?

“We have this time,” Ben said, and Rey could tell how much he wanted to reach for her, to touch her again and to feel her warm and alive in his arms. “We’ll have to make the most of it.”

Rey nodded, taking a deep breath. “We will.”

Ben swallowed, eyes clouding. “Rey, I - I’m - “

She knew what he was going to say, and she cut him off. “No. No regrets. No apologies, not now.”

He bit his lip, then bowed his head, shoulders easing. “All right.”

The joy bubbled up, and Rey grinned. “Come on. We can watch the colourworks.”

If things were as they should have been, Rey thought, then apologies would have been in order. But she refused to mar this little time with guilt. They walked side by side back into the festival, oh so careful to maintain the little distance between them. Rey ached with the desire to brush his fingers with hers, to slip her arm through his, to touch the dimple lingering in his cheek; but she couldn’t bear to watch her hand pass through him. It was easier to pretend that they could, and _chose_ not to.

They watched a musical performance with drums that made the ground quiver under their feet, and clapped along with someone reciting some rhythmic poetry - and the sight of Ben Solo, relaxed enough to keep the beat with ungloved hands, nearly made Rey weep again - and circled around the sacrificial fires tended by chanting celebrants, sparks rising into the darkening air.

“You should eat,” Ben said, when Rey’s mouth watered at the delicious odor of something roasting. “You don’t eat enough.”

“How would you know?” Rey said, keeping the words light, and the soft look he gave her pulsed warmth through her.

“I know you,” he murmured, and even over the rumble of the festival she heard him. _As you know me._

And he was right, so she bought meat and bread, and some kind of multicoloured confection on a long skewer, and savoured every bit. Ben watched her eat with the same soft smile, and Rey buried the wish to offer him a bite, and smiled back.

They walked out into the desert as the stars came out, burning bright and deep overhead. There were a thousand questions Rey wanted to ask, so many things she wanted to tell Ben, and she knew the same was true for him; but there simply wasn’t time, so they walked together, silent, hearts singing to one another along the bond.

It wasn’t enough, it could never be _enough_ , but it was what they had. Sometimes thoughts would slip through, Ben’s _I hate to see you sad_ or Rey’s _your mother would be very proud,_ or just _you are so beautiful_ , and _that_ one could have come from either of them. Ben’s noncorporeal ears could turn pink, Rey discovered with delight, and found too that he could generate enough of a Force push to stroke a strand of hair from her face.

Eventually they settled at the base of a rock just within sight of the festival, still warm from the desert day. Rey sat crosslegged, keeping her hands carefully in her lap; Ben pulled up his legs and wrapped his arms around them, so close that if he had been solid the hairs on her skin would have felt his presence. He laid his head on his knees, watching her, the starlight bright enough to make out their gleam.

_It’s not long enough._

She brought out her comlink; when Chewbacca didn’t answer, she called C-3PO.

_“Mistress Rey!”_ He sounded alarmed. _“Are you all right?”_

She rolled her eyes fondly. “I’m fine, I’m taking a walk. Tell Chewie I’ll be back at sunrise, okay?”

_“Very well. Be careful, Mistress Rey.”_

“You too, Threepio,” she said, amused, and put the comlink away.

“I’m glad Chewie’s all right,” Ben said quietly. “I...I did wonder.”

They had been his family too, Chewbacca, even the droids. Rey nodded. “He’s been...very kind.”

Words faded away, and she was caught up in the bond again, feeling Ben’s passionate gratitude that Chewbacca was looking after her, laced with sorrow that it couldn’t be _him._ Rey breathed out and opened herself, showing him the shy delight that he _wanted_ to, her own yearning to care for him in turn.

There were too many words, so they spoke none of them. They simply dwelt in each other, in the harmony that had been so quickly shattered in life; Rey’s ache of missing Ben didn’t disappear, but it was soothed down to something less jagged, more patient. _Together,_ his mind whispered to hers; _together, for now._

_And later,_ hers returned, though how long that would be they could not know. The stars wheeled overhead as they walked the paths of one another’s spirits, holding happiness as the fragile, fleeting thing it was.

When the hint of light appeared along the horizon, cold dread welled in Rey’s gut. The festival had rumbled at the edge of their hearing all night, but now the drums were beating one rhythm together, and the gleam of fire grew as more were kindled, burning orange and blue and green.

“What will happen to you?” she asked, already tasting ashes on her tongue.

“I think I’ll go back.” Ben’s voice was thick. He’d tried to show her where he’d been, but the memory had not transferred, and Rey suspected that it was not something the living could know. “I...I don’t want to.”

Her hands spasmed and clenched with the need to take his, to grab hold and _keep_ him. _“Ben.”_

The light was strengthening, and the drums beat faster. She could see his face now as the dawn strengthened, strained and desperate. “Rey...I’m sorry.”

The drums crashed and stopped; the fires went out. Pasaana’s sun broke past the horizon.

Nothing happened.

For a long, long moment, they stared at each other. Thoughts spun wildly through Rey’s head - _how long does it take the ancestors to fade, is he **stranded** here somehow - _and then she saw it, spilling over the sand next to them.

Ben’s shadow.

_Oh._

_**Oh -** _

Rey reached out slowly, fingers shaking. His hand rose to meet hers - hesitated -

Warm. His skin was warm, and soft, and _real_. Their fingers slid together, clasping, tightening. A blurred sound tore from her throat, and his breath caught.

_Are we dreaming?_

Ben lifted their hands, pressed his cheek against her fingers. “I - I don’t think so - “

His voice cracked. Rey squeaked, and threw herself forward, and yes, he was solid, holding her tight, _tight_ -

Joy filled them like the morning light, pure and unmixed with sorrow. Rey’s ribs hurt with the squeeze, and on some level she was pretty sure she was half-strangling Ben, but neither of them cared. _He’s here, he’s **here** , he’s not **leaving**._ His hair was cool and soft against her palm, and he shook in her grasp; the constant gasp of her name against her shoulder made her choke, and pull him closer still.

They held each other as the sun rose, lost in the impossible made real, and Rey couldn’t even wonder how it had happened. The only thing that mattered was that she had Ben _back_. And when their arms loosened enough for his lips to track from her ear to her mouth, Rey lost the thought entirely.

The sun was fully up before the sudden growl of his stomach startled them both into laughter. “I guess you really are here,” Rey managed, blinking lashes sticky with tears. Her own stomach was asserting its needs as well, and at the edge of her perceptions she could sense a familiar stalwart soul - Chewie, out looking for her now that dawn had come and gone.

“I am,” Ben said, still with an edge of wonder. “Rey - there’s a lot I need to say to you. Now...now that there’s time.”

Guilt and regret - yes, she could understand that. And he was right, it did need to be spoken, apologies offered and acknowledgments made. But -

Rey pushed to her feet, dusting sand from her leggings, and held out a hand to pull Ben up. “There’s time,” she agreed. “So maybe...after breakfast.”

His grin took her breath away all over again. Fingers linked, they set off towards the _Falcon_.

“That’s a pretty necklace, by the way,” Ben said. “I, ah, I liked the other one too.”

His voice was rueful, and Rey snorted and nudged him. “You didn’t even know you could do that, did you?” she asked with sudden insight, and Ben shook his head.

“It was impulse. I - “

He broke off, lifting his head. Far ahead of them, a tall figure loped into sight. Ben stiffened, steps slowing, but Rey didn’t let him go.

“Trust me. It’ll be fine,” she told him, and kept walking; his apprehension rippled through the bond, but he obeyed her tug.

Chewbacca halted, staring; Rey waved.

Chewie’s howl split the air and echoed off the rocks. He charged forward, kicking up sand, and beside her Ben braced himself.

But there was no resisting a Wookiee hug, and Rey laughed as Chewie snatched Ben off his feet, scolding and rejoicing so loudly that Ben’s _oof_ was all but lost. Rey folded her arms and watched as Ben clung to his uncle, and was content.

It was some minutes before a somewhat disheveled Ben was set back down, breathless and smiling sheepishly. Chewbacca smoothed his hair with one big hand.

_< That’s better,>_ he commented. _< Now come.It’s time to eat.>_

Ben blinked up at him. Rey leaned over and captured Ben’s hand again as Chewie began herding them towards the _Falcon_. _Just like that?_ Ben asked her silently, half humour and half uncertainty.

Rey squeezed his fingers. _Just like that._

He nodded, and kissed her hand. “Then let’s go.”

_Together,_ Rey affirmed, and watched his smile widen.

They turned their faces into the light, and walked home.


End file.
